


Day Five: Cuddling

by Authoranna



Series: Comfortember 2020 [5]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: But only a little, Comfortember 2020, F/M, First there's fluff, also angst, of course there's emotions, shuttlepod one continuation, then there's a smut second part in chapter 2, they thought Enterprise was destroyed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27483913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoranna/pseuds/Authoranna
Summary: After the events of Shuttlepod One (season 1 episode 16), Malcolm Reed gets to spend time with his girlfriend Lt. Charlotte Watson after thinking she was dead.First chapter is the comfort, second chapter is the NSFW.
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/OFC
Series: Comfortember 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999417
Kudos: 1
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	1. Comfort

Malcolm lay in Sick Bay, wrapped in multiple blankets after his ordeal with Commander Tucker on Shuttlepod One. Sub-Commander T’Pol and Captain Archer had left a few minutes prior, and he was sure it wasn’t a dream finally.

Of all the letters he had written to his old flames, none whom he had any affection for any more, there was one letter he had barely been able to record: the one to Charlotte Watson, engineer on the NX-01. He had managed it while Tucker had been sleeping, the last night they were on the shuttlepod thinking the _Enterprise_ was lost and freezing their bums off. It was the shortest letter he had recorded.

“My dear Charlotte,” he had begun, “I’m sorry that we faced death separately. I know you’ll never hear this, but I still need to write it, for my own benefit. I will never regret these months onboard _Enterprise_ with you. Getting to serve with you, and face death and all that our mission entailed, was a dream come true. I hope you knew how deeply I cared for you, my love, even if I didn’t say it often enough. I love you, Charlotte Eleanor Watson.”

The letter was saved to the shuttlepod’s computer, and the engineering team tasked with repairing the shuttle quickly ran through the new additions to the memory banks. All but that letter were deleted, the crewmembers knowing they were all final farewells. Crewman Rostov found the letter, transferring it to a datapad and handing it off to Watson in the mess hall the next day.

“I found this, on the shuttlepod,” he explained slowly. “I didn’t listen to it, just saw it’s addressed to you. It’s from Lieutenant Reed. I don’t know whether you want to listen to it or not, considering he thought you were dead and he was about to die, based on the timestamp. But I thought you should be the one to decide.”

He walked away before she could even finish saying thank you, and she was left staring confusedly at her bowl of tomato soup. She sighed, realizing her stomach was suddenly tied up in too many knots to be able to finish her dinner.

She sat down at the side of Malcolm’s biobed, watching as his chest rose and fell slowly. Doctor Phlox had told her of how close the armoury officer and chief engineer had come to death, and the hypothermia the two had suffered in an attempt to prolong their oxygen and improve their chance of survival. She reached up, about to grab the hand that lay on top of the blankets, but thought better of it and decided to not risk waking him. She secretly hoped that he would rouse, her presence enough to awaken him somehow, but he was too tired and cold to notice her. She stood up after a few more minutes, not wanting to rouse Phlox’s suspicions if she stayed too long.

She slipped down the corridor, datapad in hand, to Reed’s quarters. She wanted to -- no, needed to -- listen to what he thought was a letter to a dead woman in an area that was distinctly and only his. The weapons bay would also have worked, but she knew that it wasn’t empty and solitude was what she needed.

She played the recording over and over again, until she had memorized every word and could repeat it in his voice. She wiped at her eyes finally, reaching for the kleenex she knew was tucked away on the desk somewhere after his cold. She threw the discarded tissues in the wastebasket hidden under the desk, then shucked her boots and jumpsuit before crawling into the bunk. She played the recording again, drifting to sleep listening to his voice.

Malcolm hit the comm panel in Sick Bay, trying to hail Charlotte wherever she was. She didn’t answer, however, and he was left wondering where she could be that she couldn’t answer. He trudged to his quarters slowly, palming open the door. His eyes lit up when he saw Charlotte inside, and he quickly crossed the threshold so the door would slide shut behind him.

He crossed to the bunk, sinking down slowly to his knees on the floor. Charlotte lay curled in as tight a ball as possible, one hand on a datapad and the other tucked under her chin with the blankets balled in her fist. Her braid had fallen out, curls plastered to her forehead and neck, some splayed across the pillow. She breathed deeply, letting out a small snore on occasion. She didn’t move at all during the long minutes Malcolm simply watched, eyes watering at the fact that she wasn’t dead. It hadn’t caught up to him on the shuttlepod, as he and Tucker had been too busy trying to find a way to survive and then thinking they were going to die themselves for him to think about the crew surviving.

He pulled his boots and jumpsuit off then, gently pulling the datapad out of Charlotte’s grip. As he did he pressed play, and his letter began to broadcast in the small room.

Charlotte blinked slowly, grumbling awake. She looked up at Malcolm, who sat on the edge of the bed and said in time with the recording, “I love you, Charlotte Eleanor Watson.”

“I know,” she said with a smile.

“I thought you were dead; for days we thought the _Enterprise_ was destroyed. I just, I needed to say those words one last time, even if you never heard them.” He didn’t move from his perch on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over her slowly as if to reassure himself she was actually there and not another figment of his imagination like the subcommander had been earlier. Finally, he pulled the sheets from her hand and slid underneath them.

“We’re always nearly dying out here, Malcolm,” she whispered, pulling him towards her.

“I know,” he echoed. “That’s what explorers do; but we don’t face it alone. And we live another day.”

He pulled back, looking at her face and the creases the pillow had left on it. He leaned forward again, touching her forehead with his own before pressing his lips to her cheek and pulling back again.

“Go to sleep, love,” he said softly, “we can talk in a few hours once we’re both rested.”

Reed knew he wouldn’t sleep for a while, having gotten plenty of rest in Sick Bay over the past two days. But he was alive, and so was Charlotte, and it was as if she had been brought back from the dead. A part of him still expected it to be a dream, a hallucination, and to wake up back on the shuttlepod and be half frozen to death. After all, sleeping beside the other half of your heart was a dream.


	2. Physical Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A smutty coda to this prompt because Malcolm would definitely want some life-affirming sexy time after thinking she was dead.

Charlotte awakened slowly, nuzzling into the pillow before opening her eyes. She was met with the blue orbs of Malcolm looking back at her sleepily, and she ran a hand down his arm to grab his hand. 

“Mm, what time is it?” She asked, voice cracking with disuse as she stretched her legs in the confines of the bunk.

“Still the early hours; no need to hurry back to your quarters quite yet.” He tucked some hair behind her ear, pulling her head closer with a hand on the back of her neck. His kiss was chaste, but eager; full of joy at being alive and finding her alive too. 

He trailed his hand down to her hip, pulling her body flush against his so she could feel his growing hardness. She let out a small moan, pulling back to breathe before skimming her hands under his shirt to pull it up. She needed more skin on skin, she needed to feel him alive after seeing him lying in Sick Bay with all those blankets. 

He rolled to allow her to pull his shirt off, landing on top of her. Her legs spread instinctively, her knees bracketing his thighs. He returned his lips to hers, slowly adding his tongue as they ground against each other. He pulled her bra off, tossing the offensive blue garment towards a far corner of the room and being answered by a noise of indignation. 

“You don’t need that for a long time, darling,” he replied, ducking down to kiss first one and then the other hardened nipple. 

She threaded her hands through his hair at that, keeping him close as he laved each nipple in turn. He bit at the soft flesh of one breast, sucking at it to make a mark before turning to the other and doing the same. She let out a low moan as he turned his head to take a nipple in his mouth again. 

He kissed his way down her stomach then, stopping to place his hands on her hips and slowly work her underwear off her body. He interrupted his downward movement to press his lips to the junction of her thighs, his tongue snaking out for a second before he continued down her body. He threw those to the same corner as he had thrown her bra, hands wrapping around her ankles before running up her body as he lay down between her legs.

Malcolm spread her legs wider to accommodate him, her heels resting on either side of his chest as he used his hands to hold her legs apart. At the first swipe of his tongue along her folds she wrapped her hands in his hair again, her head tilting back as she held him in place. He was perfectly happy where he was, however, his hands moving to her cunt and spreading the lips for better access to her clit. He sucked and licked at the nub, taking it in his lips and humming on occasion to make her keen. She stifled her moans as best she could, thankful the walls of the _Enterprise_ were at the least sound-dampening. 

“Malcolm, I-,” she started, hips rolling against his mouth as she gripped the sheets in one fist. His arms were across her thighs, holding her down.

He looked up at the sound of his name falling off her lips finally, sending her a smirk, chin wet, before diving back to her cunt. He ran two fingers along her entrance, sinking them in slowly as he sucked hard on her clit. She gasped, edged closer to release, then threw her head back in a silent scream as Malcolm did it again and brushed against that spot inside her.

He continued lapping at her slowly as she came down from the high, her hands returning to his hair as she let out a long and low hum of satisfaction. He stopped his ministrations when she pulled at his hair, coming back up to lay alongside her and press his lips to hers. 

“I’m glad you take those bromelain injections,” she whispered, her hand on the side of his face, “so I can eat all the pineapple I want.”

“Mmm, is that what I tasted?” He answered, licking his lips dramatically. “Whatever it is, I like it.” 

Their kisses turned from lazy to heated quickly, Malcolm palming at Charlotte’s ass before pushing his boxer briefs down and kicking them off. He pushed her onto her back, kneeling between her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He lined up slowly with her entrance, sliding his cock back and forth through her folds before notching himself into her.

She grabbed at his arm as he slipped in, squeezing tighter the more he sank in to her pussy. When he was fully seated she moaned his name, her legs holding him close. He leaned down, his chest brushing against hers as he propped himself up with his arms on either side of her chest. He started deep quick thrusts, a heartbeat or two between every thrust. She pulled his upper body closer, muffling her moans with his shoulder as he began to speed up. He dipped his head, picking up the rhythm again after kissing at her neck and shoulder from his position above her. 

Her nails dug into his back and she came again, inner muscles contracting around him tighter than he remembered ever feeling before. He tipped over the edge after she did, his rhythm falling to the wayside as he chased release the last few strokes. 

He collapsed ontop of her when he was spent, her arms and legs holding him hostage in the sweetest way. He didn’t mind, savoring the feel of her fluttering around his member as she relaxed. Finally he rolled off her, allowing her to get up to clean up and retrieve a warm wet cloth for him to wash with.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered when she returned to the bunk.

“It’s morning,” she replied, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“It’s night, that’s an order.” 

She didn’t answer, already fallen asleep. 


End file.
